What Is So Worth Saving?
by Kierastarlight
Summary: Castiel's POV as an angel getting used to the human world. His bond with Dean means the world to him. Takes place at the end of 4.22 & start of 5.01.
1. Chapter 1

**Yet another story I started last year but never published. It's quite different than most of my stories, as it has Castiel's POV as an angel living in a human world. This story touches on his bond with Dean and what it means to him. It takes place at the same time as 4.22 & 5.01, and also explains things said and done by Castiel during the end of Season 4.**

What Is So Worth Saving?

Castiel watched the Archangel's light pierce through Chuck's kitchen, right after he warned Chuck to close his eyes, tightly. Brilliant rays diffused all solid matter nearby and Castiel was perceiving the angel realm. The human realm dissolved within it, hidden like sugar in water. Castiel had witnessed the transformation of perception countless times, and he assumed this was the last.

Castiel knew he didn't stand a chance at making it through this confrontation alive – he just wanted to stall the Archangel long enough so that Dean could stop Sam from killing Lilith.

Castiel thought about time, and how that was all he needed, just a little more time. Angels knew how to bend time, and he stretched time out in front of him, carefully, like a glassblower stretching hot molten sand – he had to make certain not to stretch too far, to not let the thread of time lose consistency and split. But if he stretched it gently, it would serve its purpose and not have a catastrophic result.

He stretched it, feeling the weight of increased time fill the room. Then stopped abruptly, feeling it was enough, and closed his eyes, saying a prayer. The newly created gap of time went by, and then he felt a forceful pressure pull at him, sucking him back into the time where he needed to face the Archangel.

"Castiel, you have disobeyed." The words were spoken to him as high-frequency vibrations, a language only angels would ever know. Chuck would not hear a thing, Castiel mused to himself in English. English. One of many human languages, the one Dean spoke…Castiel felt he still knew so little about God's children. Before, they seemed like – pets. Not very wise, prone to make mistakes and not follow orders. Before he met Dean, he didn't understand not following orders. It has separated him from the human race.

God always loved his children, his human children, even when they made stubborn mistakes. Castiel had trouble understanding why humans were allowed grace and understanding so many times, while angels were absolutely forbidden to disobey.

And then he had observed Dean Winchester. Not just observed him, connected with him. This had never happened to Castiel before. Humans that he helped in the past, he assisted them invisibly. They never knew he was there.

But Castiel had taken on a human vessel to assist Dean Winchester. The human eyes Castiel had adopted could look straight into Dean's eyes, and form some sort of emotional bridge. Somehow, Castiel wasn't sure how, but each time Dean and Castel looked at each other, talked with one another, this invisible bridge strengthened, became more solid each time. And each time, Castiel felt as if he'd dusted obscuration of the truth from his perception. He could see and understand humans more and more clearly from his contact with Dean. They were not just pets. They had purpose. Purpose that Castiel was only beginning to understand…and he felt great sadness that his endeavors to understand humans would not be continued.

Yet, Zachariah and the other hadn't seen it that way. They said that these emotions Castiel was developing for Dean were clouding his judgment. What would the humans of called that? A difference of opinion? Castiel didn't see things their way. They tried to convince Castiel that they were right, that for Castiel to continue to pursue his interest in getting to know Dean and the rest of the human race would be an act of disobedience. It was completely unnecessary in Heaven's plan to carry out the prophecy. They told Castiel that Dean could be guided by another angel, if necessary.

Castiel was given a choice, that either he ceased to be attached to Dean Winchester, or he would be eternally ordered to not interfere or interact in Dean Winchester's life. And of course, to disobey that order, as an angel, would mean death.

It has only been a flicker in time, the briefest of moments that he had known Dean, compared to his eternal nature, but the thought of going through many more millennia without Dean Winchester, without that bridge that existed between them, was unbearable to Castiel. He convinced Zachariah he would drop his attachment to Dean, and even spoke to Dean in a manner that could be considered "telling him off." And then did his very best to ignore their bridge for awhile. He missed it; he hadn't realized at all how much he would miss Dean and their connection. All this human nature stuff was utterly new to him.

Castiel told himself, he must be vigilant and stay unattached, at least for the time being. He had faith that somehow, their bridge would connect again. He must wait it out, not only for himself, but for Dean as well. Castiel had wondered, did Dean feel this same bridge of emotional connection between them?

Then Dean had called out for him in the junkyard, for more than two hours in human time. A mere speck of time to Castiel, but Dean was feeling impatient, anxious, desperate in that time frame, more and more so as each minute passed. Oddly, the bridge seemed to connect again, as Castiel waited to see if he was given the order to speak to Dean, and he felt time the way Dean had. It was uncomfortable, really uncomfortable. Yet it made him feel closer to Dean as well.

He was given the order to speak to Dean, and his question on whether Dean felt that same bridge between them was answered so clearly as Dean begged Castiel to help him. Dean looked deeply into Castiel's eyes, dug around as if to look for the connection they had once shared, to see if it was still there. This immediately broke whatever barrier Castiel thought he held to keep his distance from Dean.

The need to feel that bridge, to keep it cohesive, was strong. It diminished all other efforts to keep a safe distance from Dean. Yet Castiel still needed to convince Zachariah otherwise.

Zachariah had been observing Castiel as he spoke to Dean in the junkyard. Was ready to reprimand him when he returned to Heaven. Castiel was uncertain as to whether he would be killed for his disobedience.

Instead, Zachariah spoke with Castiel for a long while, explained to him the faults of man, how needy and selfish they were, also how pained and imperfect they were. He explained to Castiel that he was falling into a trap, that God kept angels and humans separate for a reason. At first he spoke to Castiel like a human father would to a son, then he became serious and said he didn't want to see Castiel screwing up again.

Zachariah also explained that the prophecy would bring peace for the humans and angels, together. This word, _together_, got to Castiel. Maybe if the prophecy came to pass, Dean and Castiel could live together, in peace. This thought motivated Castiel deeply.

Away from Dean and their connection, Castiel was able to convince himself once more that he could keep an emotional distance from Dean in the future. He also thought about what Zachariah had said, and examined his own observations of Dean, the terrible guilt and depression Dean harbored over his experience in hell, the other complexities inside Dean that stirred his being in an unsettled way, and Castiel decided he really did want Dean Winchester to be at peace. He knew from observation that other humans also carried darkness in their hearts. He wanted these other humans to be at peace as well. Perhaps Zachariah was right. The world needed to be at peace.

Then later, in the decorated room, Castiel was alone with Dean for more than one time. Dean tried to convince him they needed to get to Sam. Dean's urgency and need was so strong. Castiel's first impression was that if only Dean could see that the prophecy was in their best interest, everyone's best interest, then perhaps Dean would settle down and allow the prophecy to happen. Castiel even explained to Dean, that his pain, Sam's pain, could go away. Castiel felt so strongly about having Dean see his way, so they could be together again, he asked Dean, "What is so worth saving?" He wanted Dean to see that humans harbored much misery, and could be released from this misery.

Dean was not convinced at all. He was convinced instead that the prophecies were a pack of lies, to keep Dean and Castiel in line. To keep everyone in line. And Castiel thought about how he was never allowed to disobey. Perhaps Dean was right. Dean spoke of what was real, connections between people. Castiel thought of how this new thread of connection between Dean and himself was – even though he couldn't see it visibly, was the most tangible thing he'd come across in all his times of assisting humans. Dean was right, it _was_ real.

Castiel felt confused. He explained to Dean they would all be hunted and killed for disobedience. Castiel couldn't see why getting involved in what Dean wanted would be worth it, since they would all be dead afterwards anyway.

And then Castiel remembered how he would feel if he had to spend eternity without his connection with Dean. To always remember it, but be apart from it? He had been so surprised at how much he had missed Dean in a short time. He did not want to spend eternity that way. Perhaps dying would be better. And Dean didn't sound like he wanted anything to do with Castiel if Castiel wouldn't help. This was another reason Castiel was influenced to help Dean. To have the angels separate them would be one thing, to have Dean himself separating them would be much worse. Castiel detested the feeling of their bridge crumbling between them.

Castiel felt the fate of the world was at stake, too. This wasn't just about himself and Dean. Other humans had similar needs to connect with others, he had observed this much in his time of assisting humans, he just couldn't _feel_ that connection before. Would their ability to feel these connections in paradise be diminished? If Dean wasn't going to be happy in paradise, wasn't going to be himself anymore, this most likely rang true for all of humanity.

Castiel made his decision, not just on logic alone but from the tug he felt to keep his connection with Dean alive, even if it meant it would end soon from death. He helped Dean Winchester stop the prophecy.

And so Castiel braced himself for the end. The archangel attacked, the pain Castiel felt in the angel realm made the deep wounds Castiel had received in a human body feel like mere fingernail scratches against the skin. There was no brain chemistry in the angel realm to block out the most excruciating pain. Castiel willed with his mind for the agony to be over with soon. He felt he were being split or torn into pieces, and then each new piece felt the same unbelievable pain, a symphony of agony.

And then there was peace. Was Castiel dead? He wondered. If so, where was he? He hadn't expected to remain conscious with an angel's death. He thought of Uriel, would he be in this same place? He thought of Dean, and panicked. _NO_. Death was supposed to end any awareness of any separation from Dean. He told himself perhaps this was just his last thread of consciousness. He used it to send a prayer for Dean, that Dean would be protected and successful. And would not suffer without their bridge.

Later, Castiel found himself curled up in a ball in the human body, small aches and pains radiating throughout it, and a hand, warm even through the clothes Castiel wore, touching his shoulder. He heard Dean's voice, yelling angrily at Zachariah, at God. And he felt the bridge. Strong. More solid than before. _What is happening?_ Castiel thought. _I am supposed to be dead_.

Castiel blinked, and opened the eyes he apparently still had. Tried to focus on Dean's face.

Dean's face transformed. It had looked sad, forlorn, angry. It changed to surprise, and joy.

"Cas, you're alive? You're alive! Is that you in there, Castiel?" Dean shook him gently.

"Yes, Dean, it is me. What happened? I thought I was dead."

Dean didn't answer. Instead, he lunged both of his arms towards Castiel, held Castiel tightly between them. This was hugging. Castiel knew this from observing humanity. "I'm so glad you're alive, Cas, you have no idea." Dean laughed as he said it, as if the joy he felt were spilling out.

Their bridge, in this embrace, was so much stronger. Very powerful, it felt very good. It also felt – shorter. There was less of a distance between both ends of the bridge, between Dean and Castiel. They were closer. Castiel loved the feeling. He never wanted it to end. He found his arms underneath Dean's grip and reached out and embraced Dean's torso as well. This was the most real feeling Castiel had encountered in his angel existence. And it _was_ worth dying for. But was he no longer dead?


	2. Chapter 2

Dean squeezed Castiel a little harder before releasing him. Castiel was in awe with how that human gesture affected their bridge. Even after Dean had taken his arms away from Castiel, the bridge was strong, alive. He looked around. They were both on Chuck's kitchen floor. "I still can't believe you're alive, Cas. Even Zachariah left you for dead. That dick, I sent him into next Tuesday. For killing you."

"Next Tuesday?" Castiel asked, confused. "How did you do that?"

"I did that mojo thing with the blood on wall. You know, that you taught me."

"Oh. You didn't really mean next Tuesday. You sent him back to the angel realm."

Dean laughed heartily. "Oh yeah, I sent him back to somewhere alright. You shoulda seen the look on his face. Priceless. We could make a Mastercard commercial out of it." Then he frowned. "I wish he would stay there. We probably have to worry now about Zachariah getting wind of the fact that you are alive."

"Probably, yes," Castiel said quietly. He noted to himself that he knew that a Mastercard was a credit card, but he had no idea why Zachariah's face would make a good commercial for it. Dean often said things that Castiel didn't completely understand. He tried to get up off the floor. He felt very disoriented. He saw there was broken glass around him. A minefield for human skin. He tried to find a spot where he could safely set down his hand to steady himself. And then realized it was a rather odd thought for him to have. To feel concern for his human skin.

"Are you hurt? Can you get up?" Dean offered Castiel a hand, stood up himself.

Castiel took the hand and slowly stood up. "Yes, I do feel some pain," he told Dean matter of factly, and willed the small aches and pains to go away. He expected the aches to whittle away until they were down to nothing, yet they kept him company none the less.

Once standing up, he willed them to go away again. They did not retreat.

"Cas, what's wrong?" Dean asked. Dean was reaching through Castiel with his eyes. Dean seemed to know what was on Castiel's mind without Castiel speaking of it. Was this part of having a bridge between them, or Castiel's face an open book? Probably the later, Castiel thought.

"My injuries are not healing," He told Dean. "I think I need to sit down."

Dean hadn't let go of Castiel's hand. Dean led Castiel to Chuck's couch. Castiel suddenly became aware that Chuck and Sam were in the room as well. He nodded to them, said hello to them.

Once Dean had Castiel sitting down comfortably, Dean paced around the room. "You're telling me your angel mojo is gone?"

Castiel could feel pain in all his muscles, it seemed. "I can't heal myself," he said. He tried to do other things angels could do. He attempted to appear in the chair across the room. His body stayed firmly on the couch.

"Hmm, I can't transport myself anywhere either," he said, careful to keep the rising panic out of his voice. He didn't want to upset Dean.

"Maybe you're too disoriented right now," Sam suggested.

"Yeah, well maybe Zachariah's messed with you, took your angelhood away or something," Dean said.

"No," Castiel said. "This doesn't make sense. Zachariah would just have me dead."

"You got that right. That smug dick, I just wanted to slap that grin off his face. Was talking like your death was nothing more than a little mess he had to clean up. Bastard." Then he looked down. "Sorry Cas. I shouldn't have said that with you in the room. You didn't need to hear that."

"Right now, I don't think I mind if you slap Zachariah," Castiel said. Sam and Chuck laughed.

"No, I was talking about – you didn't need to hear that Zachariah wasn't giving a rat's ass about you. Except now I'm saying it again, dammit."

"Oh." Castiel said. "Well, don't worry, Zachariah's lack of empathy for me is the least of my worries. Making sure he doesn't send the archangel back to kill me is my main concern right now. For whatever reason, I am still alive, but this may not last long. And I fear for your safety as well." He looked at Sam and Dean. "If either of you try to interfere with the Archangel, you will be killed."

"Maybe we should get out of here, since the Archangel likes to hang around Chuck," Dean suggested.

"That's probably a good idea. Although I don't know how long I can run from a garrison of angels."

Sam offered to help Chuck tape a tarp over his kitchen window before they left. Dean swept up the glass. Castiel liked observing humankind helping one another. It seemed to bring more purpose in their lives. He imagined it helped reinforce bridges between them. He could only sense the one between himself and Dean, though. He could still feel it, even with Dean in the kitchen, sweeping. Was Dean thinking of Castiel as Castiel was thinking of him?

Castiel felt a tinge of regret for asking Dean what was so worth saving. Looking back at the conversation, it seemed an ignorant thing to say, now. Not that the pain and suffering that humans felt were washed away from his consciousness. He could actually still feel Dean's emotions – agitation, some fear. They darkened his experience. This would be something worth losing, Castiel thought. But then he could also feel relief, and even joy, from Dean. This must be because Castiel was alive. Castiel felt immense gladness that Dean cared that much about him. _This _was worth saving. But how did humans deal with all the badness in life? He felt he still had much to understand.

Castiel also thought of what was happening to him. Dean had said his angel 'mojo' was gone. Was it possible he had lost his grace? He tried to perceive the angel realm. Light began to percolate through the physical objects in the room – Chuck's table with papers, a green-shaded lamp on another table, the curtains over the windows, they all brightened until Castiel perceived pure light all around him. He could see the angel realm. He left before anyone would notice him. And wondered why many of his abilities were gone, while he could still go to the angel realm, and could also sense Dean's emotions.

He felt – fear. He couldn't go ask the angels what was happening to him. There would be no seeking revelation and getting guidance or answers. He was going to have to face this odd situation alone.

Except, he had Dean and Sam. The blind leading the blind, he thought. Yet, there was a certain comfort to that arrangement, something he never felt as an angel. Angels didn't have problems that needed to be solved – well, until Uriel started killing angels. Usually, angels were solving human problems, not their own.

Finished with the kitchen, Dean helped Castiel out to the car and they drove to a motel. Castiel thought about time again. Humans needed to move through it in a certain way. They had to take the time to get from one place to another in their cars, or on foot. Thinking of time reminded him of what he had been trying to do earlier.

"Dean. Did you stop Sam. Or is Lucifer free?"

Dean looked at the rear-view mirror, making eye contact with Castiel. "Lucifer is free," he said grimly.

"Then there is much work to be done," Castiel said.

In the motel room, Castiel felt the urge to lie down on the bed, and told Dean about it. Dean told him to "knock yourself out" and so Castiel set his body on the bed, head on the pillow, and closed his eyes.

Castiel had never lost consciousness before today. Angels were eternally awake. They saw human dreaming and sleeping as a curious thing. Humans liked to make more out of the dreams than were really there. Humans liked to sleep, because they could take a break from their problems. Castiel thought that sounded inviting right now. He wanted a break from the pain in his muscles and the fear that hadn't left him. Would he be able to fall asleep? Would he be alive later, or would the Archangel finish him off?

Castiel drifted off to sleep, his last memory before waking up again being laughter on the television in the room. When he woke up, his pains had lessened, although they were still there.

Dean and Sam had been talking quietly, and they stopped when they saw Castiel pull his head up. "Did you sleep?" Dean asked.

"Yes. I was unconscious for awhile."

"Angels don't sleep, do they?" Dean asked.

"No."

"Does this mean – you're not an angel anymore?" Dean voice was sharp, concerned.

Castiel tried to see the angel realm again. The room became white as a screen, and he saw Zachariah looking at him, still unable to enter his favorite vessel, the one Dean and Sam were familiar with. The sigil Dean had used was still affecting him, Castiel could see that clearly. Castiel went back to the human realm.

"I can still see the angel realm, and I saw Zachariah looking at me," Castiel announced.

"So, you're still an angel," Dean said. "I guess that's good, but, aren't you supposed to be a goner? What's going to happen to you when Zachariah can come back here?"

Castiel tried to heal his aches again. Nothing happened. He tried to transport to the other bed. Nothing. "I don't know. We will find out when that time comes. I can't heal myself or transport. I feel, limited, like a dim light bulb or something. Not a full-strength angel."

"I wonder if there is anything we can even do to protect him?" Sam said. "And if the Archangel already worked at him, but wasn't successful, does that mean Castiel isn't supposed to die? I mean, think about it. An Archangel is pretty badass."

"Hell if I know," Dean said. "About how to protect him. And I'm the one who's supposed to be ganking Lucifer too. Might as well make me president of the fucking world, while we're at it."

Dean's cell phone rang. "It's Bobby," he said after observing the caller ID.

"Hey, Bobby, what's up?" Dean said.

"The apocalypse, that's what's up," Bobby said. "I take it Lucifer was let out of the bag?"

"Yeah, he was fried and crispy, slow cooked to perfection," Dean joked. Then, more seriously, "This is it, Bobby. What are we going to do?" He filled Bobby in on several details, including the fact that Castiel was still alive, but broken somehow.

Dean spoke to Bobby for a few more minutes, and then hung up. "He's coming over. He knew that the apocalypse had started. He said the sky got darker two hours earlier than normal. I didn't even notice. He also said weird things are happening all over the world. Bad things. A lot of babies died in a hospital in New Jersey out of the blue, Mt. Rainier in Washington blew its top and now the whole city of Seattle is covered in ash and lava, and several priests were killed around the United States at the time we saw Lucifer starting to emerge."

"Holy Shit. Lucifer likes to go out with a bang," Sam said.

"Yeah, well, this is only the beginning," Dean said. He sat down and looked at Castiel in the other bed. "You said you could see Zachariah over there, were you able to hear him talk to anyone?"

"I probably could, but I didn't stay long enough for that," Castiel said. "I think I should go talk to him myself. Find out why I'm alive. I don't like sitting here wondering. If I don't see you two again, good luck in stopping Lucifer. I have faith in you Dean."

Dean looked sad. "Hey, try to come back, okay? You're the one angel I can count on anymore."

Dean was terrified the bridge was breaking, Castiel sensed from him. He'd already seen Castiel die once today, and was afraid he'd witness it again. "I'll try," Castiel said, even though he didn't have high hopes. He wished he had something more encouraging to say.

Dean's face was the last thing he saw before the whiteness of the angel realm encircled and absorbed it.


End file.
